


a little like cinnamon

by oldpapertowns



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 00:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldpapertowns/pseuds/oldpapertowns
Summary: the one where ryan’s a bit of an idiot who doesn’t know what he’s feeling, keltie knows more than she should and is better off as a friend, and brendon… might not be better off as a friend.





	a little like cinnamon

Ryan paces around the apartment, waiting for Keltie to come home from dance rehearsal. He stops, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a small, black velvet box. He had used Keltie's extra apartment key for this event.

Upon hearing a metallic clinking and a whoosh as the front door opens, Ryan hurriedly stuffs the box into his jacket pocket and looks down at himself. Casual clothing, since he wants to surprise Keltie. Nothing in the apartment seems out of the ordinary, to add to the surprise.

Ryan frowns, wondering if he should have gone full-out cliché - rose petals, expensive wine, the whole shebang - when he's ripped out of his thoughts by Keltie. She appears in the doorway, humming, and jumps a little when she sees Ryan. "Who- oh! Ryan!" She says, her lips curving up into a smile. "What are you doing here, love?"

She trails off, her mouth rounding into a perfect _oh_ shape as Ryan gets down on one knee and brings out the box, opening it with shaking hands. He takes a deep breath before talking, eyes trained on Keltie.

"Keltie," he starts. "I'm not going to say much about my love for you, just because it's not describable with words. However, I am going to say this: will you marry me?" Ryan ends with his trembling lips quirked up in a small hopeful smile, but as the seconds tick by, his smile dies little by little.

Keltie's just standing there, tears slowly drip-drip-dripping down her face, her hands in front of her mouth, staring vacantly at the ground.

Ryan's knees start to ache, but he doesn't get up. It feels so vulnerable in this position, kneeling below Keltie with his arms stuck out in front of him. His stomach starts sinking, and he thinks Keltie should have replied by now if she were to say yes.

"Keltie?" He asks softly, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

She jolts, and looks at Ryan as more tears start rolling down her face. "I... I'm sorry," she whispers.

Ryan stands and puts the box away, mind whirling. Did he do something wrong? What did he do wrong?

He steps closer to Keltie to try and put his arm around her, but she steps away quickly. The two get closer and further away in a strange dance, and finally Ryan stops. Keltie steps away from him one last time.

"So is this a no?" _Of course it is, Ryan, you goddamn idiot. You should have known, should have known that she's never going to love you. Should have tried harder to love her._

Keltie nods, shakes her head, nods again. "It's... it's a no."

"Got it," Ryan mutters, walking past Keltie towards the door.

"Wait, Ryan. Do you know why I said no?" Ryan turns around. Keltie doesn't, faced away from the door and from Ryan.

"Why should I care?" He snarls. He knows he's being harsh, but he can't help it; it's a natural reaction at this point. Keltie turns around and looks at Ryan, her tearstained face and eyes begging him to listen.

"I said no because there's someone else."

Ryan growls. "You mean you were cheating on me? Since when? With who?"

Keltie shakes her head frantically. "No, not me. I mean-" She takes a deep breath. "I mean there's someone else. On your side."

Ryan refrains from throwing something, but just barely. "You're accusing me of cheating?"

"No! No, no, no."

"Then what?"

"I think..." Keltie trails off. "How do I phrase this? I think there's someone that you're in love with. Someone that you love more than me. You don't know it, but you are." She looks beseechingly at Ryan. "I'm not trying to make excuses to not marry you. I promise. But I... I can't marry you. I'm sorry. There's somebody else, and I can't marry you if there's someone better than me for you. I deserve better. You do too.

"I don't know who it is, but whoever it is, go find them. Go find them and marry them, or don't. Just go find them, and love them. Love them, care for them, laugh with them."

"Have I not done that with you?" Ryan says this, and he watches as Keltie breaks in front of him. His heart should break with her, but he can't feel it, can't feel anything.

"No, you-" Keltie lets out a sob, tears tracking down her face with renewed vigor. "You have. Just not as much as you could." She wipes her eyes as she stands up straighter and starts walking towards Ryan.

Ryan stands there, stands there as Keltie brushes past him, stands there as Keltie moves down the hall and turns around to face him at the end of the hallway.

"I'm going to leave for a little bit, maybe stay at someone's house. Feel free to stay the night here. And try not to destroy yourself, Ryan. Destroy a glass if you need to." With that, Keltie leaves.

Ryan stands there for a while as he hears the door click shut behind Keltie. For how long, he's not sure. Seconds, minutes, hours, they all tick by.

Numb, his mind eerily still, he pours himself a shot, downs it, and smashes the glass against the floor. She said to, didn't she?

He sees it in slow motion, the way the glass fractures and breaks apart, how the remaining whiskey droplets scatter in the air as the tinkling of the glass echoes in the air. Then time speeds up again, and Ryan is staring down at shards of glass at his feet. He can't help but think that the glass looks more beautiful than the coldly glinting diamond on the ring as he pulls out his phone to call Brendon. Brendon, who had hyped him up for this day. When Ryan had first introduced this idea to Brendon, outside his apartment at 2 AM, he swore he saw a shadow pass across Brendon's face, but it had been gone the next second. Ryan had put it down to the weird lighting of the streetlights.

He exhales slowly as Brendon's voice fills his ear, and he can't even be mad at how much Brendon's blabbering.

"Ryan? Dude. Are you nervous about the proposal? Or did it already happen? Did she say yes? She'd be stupid to say no, you're-"

"I'm coming over," Ryan interrupts as he heads towards the front door, picking up his keys and wallet.

Brendon's silent for a second, then speaks hesitantly. "Ryan?"

"I'm coming over," Ryan repeats, his voice sounding flat even to him. He wrenches the apartment door open and heads towards the stairs.

"O-okay," Brendon finally responds, and Ryan can imagine him opening and closing his mouth, eyebrows furrowed. "See you soon, I guess?"

Ryan doesn't even bother to respond, just pulls the phone from his ear and ends the call as he starts down the stairs, tucking it into his pocket. He opens the door to the apartment complex and steps outside, already hailing a cab. He doesn't trust himself to drive like this. As soon as one pulls up, he slides into the backseat and gives the cabbie Brendon's apartment address, drumming his fingers on his thigh and watching impatiently out the window.

The taxi arrives not even five minutes later, and Ryan shoves a twenty dollar bill at the driver despite knowing that the fee can't be more than ten.

"Keep the change," he calls over his shoulder as he exits the cab. The cabbie blinks, but by then Ryan's crossing the street towards Brendon's apartment, causing a myriad of honks to fill the air.

Ryan impatiently buzzes Brendon's apartment, relaxing the tiniest fraction as Brendon's voice filters out. "Ryan? Hold on, give me a sec."

The doors buzz open, and Ryan is at the elevators, darting into one that had just arrived. He presses the number 7, then the 'close doors' button multiple times, watching the doors slide close agonizingly slowly. The elevator lurches up, and finally, finally, arrives with a cheerful ding. Ryan bolts out, making a beeline towards where he knows Brendon's apartment is.

Turning the corner, Ryan's knees nearly buckle with relief when he sees Brendon. Which, weird, shouldn't happen.

Brendon's standing at his door, concern clear on his face. "Ry, what's going on?" His eyes scan Ryan's face, and his eyebrows furrow even more. "What happened? What did Keltie do?"

Ryan merely shakes his head, and Brendon jumps into action. “Right, well, come on. Inside. I’ll give you hugs.”

Brendon moves over to where Ryan’s still standing, and loops his arm around Ryan’s waist. Ryan melts a little bit (okay, maybe a lot bit), and lets himself be guided inside the apartment with soft words.

“Nearly there, Ry, nearly there. God, what did she do to you?”

Ryan barks out a hoarse laugh full of self deprecation. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Brendon kicks the door of the apartment shut, and glances up at Ryan. “She said no, didn’t she.” It’s more a statement than a question.

Ryan snorts. “Of course she fucking did. And that’s not even the worst part.”

The two move into the main room, and Ryan collapses on the sofa, dragging Brendon down with a muffled oomph.

“What’s the worst part, Ry?” Brendon doesn’t even seem mad about being dropped on top of his sofa. He just looks at Ryan, concerned.

Ryan leans back against the sofa, letting his head loll back. He hears Brendon shift next to him on the sofa but doesn’t move. He huffs out a laugh of disbelief. “She said the shittiest excuse for saying no. Something about me loving someone else, but not knowing it.”

Ryan risks a glance to his left and finds a pair of big brown eyes full of concern and something else, something bordering on… no. He shoots the idea down as soon as it shows its face. Nonetheless, something in Ryan’s chest swells, and suddenly everything Keltie had said makes sense. Fuck. Ryan drops his head back on the sofa.

“Fuck, Ryan… I’m so sorry.” Brendon doesn’t say anything more, and Ryan doesn’t look at him, but he knows that those eyes are full of pain on behalf of him. What did he ever do to be deserving of a friend like Brendon?

Ryan grabs onto Brendon to stop the thought from escaping through his mouth. God forbid he say anything as stupid as that.

Brendon scoots closer and puts his arm around Ryan. As Ryan curls into him, he swears he feels a kiss on the top of his head.

“Do you want to do anything, Ry?” Brendon asks softly. Ryan shakes his head, then nods.

“Sleep.”

“Anything else? Have you eaten anything today?”

Ryan shakes his head again. “Was too nervous to eat.” His stomach turns at the thought of the proposal and following rejection, and he curls up even further into Brendon.

“You’ve got to eat something, Ry.” Brendon tightens his arm around Ryan. “I’ve got some stuff in the fridge, or I can make something. Do you want something in particular?”

“Don’t care,” Ryan mutters.

Brendon smiles; not quite his megawatt smile, but getting there. “Then don’t blame me if I choose some leftovers. Come on."

He gets up, and Ryan reluctantly does as well, following Brendon to the kitchen as he opens the fridge and sticks his head in.

“I have Chinese takeout. Do you want Chinese takeout?”

“How old is it?” Ryan mumbles, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Brendon gasps. “George Ryan Ross the third, I am insulted that you would imply that my top quality Chinese takeout is more than a few days old.”

Ryan knows that Brendon’s trying to distract him. While he doesn’t really feel any different, he decides to play along and raises an eyebrow. “First off, I’m not sure that’s grammatically correct. Second, I will take that to mean that it’s a week old.”

Brendon swings around to glare at Ryan, nearly braining himself on the edge of the refrigerator door. “No! It’s like… one or two days old. Three, tops.”

“Ew.” Ryan wrinkles his nose. “Sure.”

Brendon shrugs, takes out a white carton, and sticks it in the microwave. He shuts the door, punches in a few numbers, then turns around. “Do you wanna wait while it warms up or just go into my bedroom?”

Ryan sighs. “I can wait two minutes, Bren.”

“It’s actually one minute,” Brendon grins as Ryan rolls his eyes.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young man!”

“I’m older than you,” Ryan points out.

“Eh,” is Brendon’s only response.

Before Ryan knows it, the microwave is beeping and he’s walking towards the bedroom with Brendon, who’s holding the steaming box.

Brendon kicks open his bedroom door, revealing a room that has a few guitars on the walls, a drum set in a corner and a keyboard in another, along with an assortment of clothes on the floor and on the dresser. Needless to say, it’s a bit cramped.

Ryan makes a beeline towards the bed, and, upon reaching it, faceplants onto it. He hears Brendon walk forward, then feels him prod Ryan.

“Scoot over, man. I don’t have any space for myself. Or the food.”

Ryan groans and turns onto his side, then his back, rolling towards the head of the bed.

“Ryan, you’re gonna have to get up if you wanna eat.” Ryan can hear the laugh in Brendon’s voice, and wonders when he got to be able to read Brendon so well.

“Don’t wanna,” Ryan mutters, but sits up anyways, reaching for a fork and the container.

Brendon gives the container up willingly. He opens his mouth to say something, then changes his mind as he closes his mouth.

Ryan doesn’t notice, as he’s currently eating the takeout robotically. Brendon frowns. “Ry, do you wanna talk about what happened?”

Ryan puts the fork down. “We already did,” he says, not meeting Brendon’s gaze.

Brendon pauses. “Is there anything you wanna get off your chest?”

Ryan picks the fork back up. “Is there anything you want to know?” He’s still not meeting Brendon’s gaze.

“I don’t-” Brendon bites his lip, worrying at it. “Actually, yes.”

Ryan starts picking at the food. “Ask away, then.”

There’s a short pause, as if Brendon’s trying to decide whether what he’s saying would send Ryan into a deeper funk that he’s currently in. He finally talks. “How could she say no?” It sounds like the question has been on the tip of his tongue for a while.

Ryan grunts. “How the fuck would I know?”

Brendon barrels on. “I mean, you’d honestly be a really good husband, if not a perfect one.”

Ryan’s head snaps up. “Brendon.”

The warning in his voice is ignored. “You’re sweet, deserving of everything good in the world, and you’re super defensive if someone insults somebody close to you. I know this as a fact, Ryan. You nearly bit my head off when I insulted Spencer even though it was clear that it was a joke.”

“Brendon, stop.” Something in Ryan’s chest is fluttering, and he wants it, needs it to stop, before he does something stupid, before his entire world fucking implodes.

“No, Ryan. I’m not going to stop. You know why?” Ryan feels gentle fingers take his chin and raise it, thumb resting on his lower lip. He risks raising his eyes as well, and they lock with a pair of warm eyes. Ryan is falling into them, how they’re full of laughter and sneaking onto private property just to take a few (shitty) photos, how they’re so different from the empty skies in Keltie’s eyes. “You are the fucking embodiment of a ray of sunshine, and Keltie is a fucking idiot to not have noticed that. She is a fucking idiot for saying no to you, to you and your smile and your skill and even your damn makeup skills. To your fashion choices that shouldn’t go together but do. You are perfect, Ryan.”

Ryan is falling. Falling into those eyes. Those doe eyes, those oh-so-sincere eyes.

“And don’t even say something like ‘apparently not perfect enough for her,’ because that is bullshit, Ryan. Complete and utter bullshit. I’m not sure exactly what she’s looking for, because she can’t get any more perfect than you. Nobody can.”

Ryan is falling, and he blames it on the coffee brown of Brendon’s eyes when he hurriedly moves the takeout to the side and puts his forehead against Brendon’s, praying that he won’t move away. He doesn’t. Instead, Brendon slowly moves his hands so they’re under Ryan’s, leaving Ryan grasping at his fingers, grabbing so hard that Brendon’s bones grind together. Brendon doesn’t flinch.

Ryan is still falling, and he blames it on the fact that the only thing he can see are the swirling emotions in Brendon’s eyes when he whispers, “I think I know what she meant when she said I love somebody else. I think I know who I love.”

He’s falling when he dares to continue. “It’s you. Always has been. Always be.”

He’s falling when Brendon’s eyes soften - impossibly - further, when his hand moves from Ryan’s hand to his cheek, when Brendon murmurs, “You’re sure? You’re still fucked up emotionally from what Keltie-”

“I may be unsure about some things, but I’m definitely sure that I love you,” Ryan interjects. “More than I have ever loved Keltie, more than I have ever loved anybody else.”

Brendon’s eyes widen, and Ryan can see the turmoil behind his eyes. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck, Ryan… can I kiss you?”

And Ryan falls, gives into his heart when he closes the gap as a silent _yes_, as a _shut the fuck up, I love you_.

And when Brendon responds, Ryan hears the unspoken _fuck, I love you too_, and finally stops falling, caught in a warm embrace that smells a little like cinnamon and a lot like Brendon, and he finally, finally feels safe.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading :) feel free to leave kudos/comments!


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